Forgotten Thoughs of Yesterday
by Angels Have Gone
Summary: Okay, this is one of those 'what-if' stories. One Elf visits just one last time, please read and review!! (AN: sorry for some of the oddities, it wouldn't upload right)


This is one of those 'what-if' scenarios. What if an Elf managed to come back, just for a little while? Please read and review! 

-A

Forgotten Thoughts of Yesterday

As I walk along these streets

_Soaking up the acid rain_

_Underneath the taxi cabs_

_I hear the streets cry out in vain_

            The world had changed so much, it was painful to see. Men had grown, as it was known that they would. But the changes… was there any of the old world left? Was there anything left that was once Middle-earth? _No,_ Elrohir thought to himself, _Men have exchanged science for magic. They no longer remember what once was. _He walked along the damp streets, dressed to the day in now-typical jeans and a shirt. Carefully hidden were his pointed ears, he would rather not receive queer looks from curious people. Or ones that disapproved at the things 'kids were doing these days.' Indeed he'd retained his youthful face, but his grey eyes were aged beyond most in this world now could understand. His ebony hair was long, yes, but it was dismissed just as quickly as it was taken in. _No one would recognise me for what I am, my people are no more than fairy tales._ It was painful to realise this. Once Elves had been a race so highly thought of in their own time and now forgotten. Lórien held only the barest whispers of what had once been there, some humans could feel it but it was ignored. Mirkwood remained, under a different name of course, and he had managed to find scarce remains of Dol Guldur but nothing of the Silvan Elves remained. In Lórien, Caras Galadhon was gone and the mallryn lost what had made them, the Golden Wood was lessened. Rivendell was gone, nothing remained at all. Elrohir knew he should have expected it. With the Rings gone all that the Elves created had faded so that the Ages of Men could come. There had been some hope that the old tales would not be forgotten and the doings of the line of Elendil would not be left to the ages to be lost. 

            He left the streets in favour of the small forest beyond. Compared to him, the trees were so very young here. Elrohir let his hair fall free and he ran, closing his eyes as he remembered the forests of Rivendell which he'd roamed in his youth. He imagined he was in a younger Lórien, running free with his brother or his friends. But the forest ended much before he would have liked it to, leaving him on the edge of a rocky beach. The sound of the surf reached him and lulled him. This sound he had heard long long ago, at the Havens. He could remember it so well…

§

The cry of the gulls drew him to the song of the sea. The birds were the embodiment of the great ocean. Salt air travelled with them and at the Havens – at the coast – they were home and their power stronger. Elrohir remembered the joy he felt when he saw the water flowing, crashing, and ebbing and repeating once again. He'd been lost in the serenity of it, for all the ages the ocean would be like this, nothing would change it. Deep in his soul he felt the longing for the tranquillity and the safety he'd find beyond the sea. And his mother… great elation filled him when he realised he would see his mother again after so long of being without her. Though there remained a lingering sadness in Elrond's family. Arwen was not going with them, she would remain with Aragorn, her love and her king. And amongst all Elves there was a shared sorrow that was felt. Though all longed for their home across the sea none wished to leave their beloved Middle-earth. They were the first into this world and though they were immortal, they were the first to truly leave it. All cherished their homes in the east, but they desired the peace they'd find in the west. With the destroying of the One Ring the Three became weak and diminished as well as their Bearers would be. All that was Elvish in Middle-earth would be lost, save for the tales of Men.

_Elrohir did not want to leave, not entirely. There was too much that would be going on! The rise of Men, Aragorn's reign, and the birth of the heirs of Men! As his brother, Elrohir would have stayed with Aragorn, but as a son he could not. Elladan and his father and grandmother boarded the great ship that would take them West, Elrohir was the last to board, casting one last, fond look at the shores of the Havens, the last of Middle-earth he would ever see._

§__

            The memory felt fresh, though it had happened centuries ago, Elrohir had a feeling that the sound of the surf had brought it back. There was nothing left for him here, though he'd clung to a few false hopes that there would be _something_, anything. It was then he realised that the world he had known was truly gone and that Elves no longer had a place here. Magic no longer had a place here. He sighed and walked out along the causeway that jutted out into the water. A fog was rising and through some strange illusion, the modern clothes fell away to reveal the clothes he'd once wandered in – the Elven grey. He knew that beyond this place he'd be brought back from whence he came. Back home. "Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya."

            A little girl stood on the beach, watching with wide eyes. She ran back to her mother, tugging fervently on the woman's hand. "Mommy! Mommy look, an elf!"

            The woman looked at the fog embanked causeway, nothing was there. "Come on, Jane, we have to go home. Elves don't exist." 

†

Hope you like, please read and review!

Lyrics are the property of Aaron Lewis

Translations:

Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya – May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky.


End file.
